Pap;e Two
THE SALEMITE
March 19, 1948
NotUUicf, Rui P^aUe>. . .
to the best Salemite staff in the paper’s
history. The complete cooperation of the bus
iness, circulation and editorial staffs has made
this year unusually successful. By-lines an
nounced what we considered exceptional writ
ing, and they were frequent. Thanks to Pinky,
Porter, Cat, Janie, Carolyn, Booty, Marilyn,
Ronnie, Boney,- Tootsie, Gloria, Frances and
Debbie. Indispensable news-writers, behind the
lines, were Bitsy, Peggy G., Dot, Su.san, Joy,
Margaret, Carter, Peggy Sue, Amie, Betty Page
and Mary Elizabeth. Then the unmentioned,
Margaret C., Helen, Clara Belle, Dale, Betty,
Ruby and Peg Watkins, wrote headlines, made-'
up, typed, “fetched” cuts and mats, humored
Mr. Cashion, ran proofs and put the Salemite
to bed each week. Liza kept our feet on the
ground and our finances out of the red; Mary
and Betsy kept the ads rolling in; and Ginna
saw that you got the finished product. We
think this was a zenith year!.
to Miss Byrd, our advisor, whose advice,
suggestions and inspiration were untiring and
>inlimited. She gave encouragement to our wri
ters, support to our policies and helpful criti
cism to our endeavors. Never too busy with
faculty doings, local lectures and struggling
students from every class, she has continued
to guide the Salemite business and editorial
staffs through their vices and vicissitudes. In
addition, she has given liberally of her time
to help English majors with courses and with
obtaining jobs and scholarships for graduate
work. The entire staff takes this opportunity
to express its gratitude and appreciation of her
contribution to Salem life.
to the Sun Printing Company for over
coming labor shortages and the hair-tearing
of Salemite staffers and infallibly getting the
paper out each Friday. Mr. Cashion’s unceas
ing work and infinite patience, Francis’ quick
ly-learned linotyping, Mr. Russ’ jokes and
Henry’s cheerfulness have been the essentials
in our producing your “reading matter” each
week.
to the Journal and the Sentinel, our source
for three excellent speakers during our Shop
Talks. Their cooperation in furnishing mats
an,d cuts, which we have often neglected to
credit, has been invaluable.
to the faculty members who have contri
buted to the paper, both actively and passively.
Mr. Bromberg’s caricatures, Mr. Leach’s editor
ials, and Miss Distabile and Miss Sanford’s re
views gave our paper added interest. Miss
Byrd’s chairmaning of the lecture committee
helped bring to the campus speakers who have
stimulated writing and thought.
to the campus organizations who have kept
news popping all year and have cooperated
with us in obtaining adequate coverage.
to the alumnae who have increased our
circulation and who have sent letters of en
couragement and praise to the staff through
out the year.
to the music department who eithei; heed
ed oyr editorial or had a brainstorm. Two
Music Hours this semester, Dr. Vardell’s illu
strated lecture on the symphony program and
Mr. Peterson’s voice methods class’ excellent
program, have broken all precedents for enter
tainment and instruction. We hope they con
tinue. Peggy Davis
Publication of the Salemite will be sus
pended until after spring holidays. The next
issue, edited by Carolyn Taylor and her new
staff, will appear April 9.
^f)t Salemite
Published every Friday of the College year by, the
Student body of Salem College
Downtown Office—304-306 South Main Street
Printed by the Sun Printing Company
OFFICES
Lower floor Main Hall
Subscription Price—$2.75 a year
EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT
Editor-in-Chief - Peggy Davis
Associate Editor Peggy Gray
Assistant Editor Nancy Carlton
Assistant Editor Carolyn Taylor
-4- >*“na.ck 3.V
More pictures. More puzzles. More cigarettes that satisfy.
Important: Leave your picture-puzzle answers with your name,
written on a Chesterfield wrapper, in the Salemite Office not
later than 10 p. m. Answers not written on Chesterfield wrap
pers will be disqualified. (P.S. to be more explicit, the pictures
above represent th^ names of Salemites—you guess ’em!)
Art Ain’t For Art’s Sake,
Says Leonardo Da Gillespie
by ToQtsie Gillespie
“Art for art’s sake” is a lot of
balony!! It should be “Art for Joe
Blow’s sake” or “Art for Nightie
Romingo’s sake ’ ’ but never ‘ ‘ Art
for art’s sake”, for heaven’s sakel!
It is said that God gave the human
species two hands (very evidently)
and an alleged brain to think with
and create with, but when that hu
man being sinks to painting a pic
ture of another human being with a
bloated belly, a slightly red, bulbous
nose (looking for the WORLD like
W. C. Fields) and the most simple-
minded look in the world on his
face, then man is overstepping his
bounds in the order of things by
calling it Art.
Once I saw a picture that my
little flve-year-old third cousin drew
on an old cast iron mast (his father
was a sailor) that looked for the
world like an original Van Dyke.
The only difference in thet wo pic
tures is that Brala (the third cou
sin) used concentrated attar of egg-
dye for coloring and Van Dyke
didn’t. I think Van Dyke’s pictures
would have been improved if he had
used egg-dye or better still, if he
had just put them in a bag with the
garbarge and let the hunky-man pick
them up the next morning.
It’s not that I don’t appreciate a
reasonable talent for drawing when
I see it—take Avenue of Trees, for
instance, THERE’S a picture that
ought to be alongside of Varga, Pet
ty and the boys who painted the
stripes in the Zebra Room of the
Stork Club.
But there’s one lad who was pretty
good in his day—^Leonardo da
Vinci. It was discovered not long
ago that he was originally a baby
sitter for unmarried mothers, but he
became discouraged in his job when
getting married became the vogue
and so he switched to painting as
an emotional outlet. First he paint
ed pictures of, Kleenex and sold
I them on street corners foi’ a nickle
each and then he became more bold
I and worked on nude figures (which
has been popular since Neanderthal
man). One day while digging around
some old Egyptian mummies, he
came across a beautiful female figure
which he cast in iron on the spot
and called it “Death and Molten
Conflagration”. Some of Leo’s
best paintings are unknown to the
average bourgis. For example, one'
day he was out looking for Han
nibal ’s trail across the Alps and
I came across a young egress egres-
sing her egret and it was such a
I breathtaking sight that he slapped
it down on canvass and called it
“I’m Not the Walking Man”.
Then there was another work Leo
did once while taking an intense
summer correspondence course in
pole-vaulting called “Young Thing
Pole-Vaulting”. But the best un
known work of Leo’s was inspired
one day while Leo was making salt
water taffy in an old lead tub in
which Nero and his girl-friends used
to bob for apples. He was sitting
there on the shore listening to the
ships that go down to sea and
stirring his taffy and thinking,
‘'Wouldn’t it be fun if Venus-on-
the-half-shell would arise up out of
the sea and she and I could *go
gamobling on the sands together?”
Just at that moment, Donatello and
Botticelli, two of his fraternity bro
thers, came running up in a fit of
pique (it was professional jealousy,
I think!), smashed Mona Lisa over
his head and told him to take his
texture, his form, his proportion and
h^s construction and get out! Leo
ran as fast as his three legs could
carry him and to this day, no one
knows what happened to that master
piece I started to tell you about.
Thus, anyone can see that art is
a decadent talent and if you don’t
believe it, take a look at Salvadors’
Dali’s guest bedroom!
Powers Constructs Canal;
Fontaine Is Forlorn LiV Qal
BUSINESS DEPARTMENT
Business Manager
Assistant Business Manager
Advertising Manager
Eliza Smith
Jane Morris
Betsy Schaum
Assistant Advertising Manager Mary Hill
Circulation Manager Virginia Connor
‘ ‘ Suez ’ ’, the movie playing in Old
Chapel tomorrow night at 8:00 is
Twentieth Century-Fox’ pseudo-bio-
graphy of the man who built the Suez
Canal, Ferdinand de Lesseps. The
plot is centered around d^ Lesseps ’
attempt to build his *‘big ditch”
from the Red Sea to the Mediter
ranean.
As cinematically produced, ‘ ‘ Suez ’ ’
is a combination of a cyclone, a
dust storm, a flood AND Tyrone
Power (as de Lasseps). Darryl Zan-
uck (who excells in producing hist
ory films) has given “Suez” ro
mance, lavish decoration, and enter
tainment.
Some of the obstacles Tyrone Pow
er sucpessfully overcomes are: the
climate, Napoleon III, his love for
the Empress Eugenie, (Loretta
Young), his sense of responsibility
for a desert tomboy (Annabella),
and the indifference of the British
government to his project.
Joseph Schildkraut, Henry Step
henson and Nigel Bruce are excel
lent in their supporting roles.
On top of all de Lessep’ troubles,
the screen writers have whipped up
a formidable simoon—sobah hah to
the Saharans—as a spectacular cli-
“you
Mumbly Dies
by Catherine Gregory
“What a beautiful morning!”, said Little
Mumbly, as she timidly smiled at the world
through the window. Her little heart was
filled with joy, and her little eyes almost spark
led behind her glasses. She turned about and
sang a formless tune to express her happiness.
Then it died on her lips as she heard her room
mate approaching, and she shrank against the
wall, waiting. The door opened.
“Good morning, roomie I” borught your
mail,” said BMOC with a smile.
Little Mumbly blinked. “Wh—what idd
you .say?”
“I said I brought your mail. Just thought
I’d help you.”
“You mean,” gasped Little Mumbly,
aren’t going to holler at me today?”
“Naaah, You’re a good kid, Mumbly, and
I like you. I’m gonna be nice to you from
now on.” She patted Mumbly affectionately
and left.
Little Mumbly was ecstatic. She rushed
from the room and ran across campus, her
face radiant. ‘My roommate likes me. She
said she did!’, she whispered to herself as she
went along.
Then she became aware of voices and smil
ing faces. “Hi, Mumbly!” “Good morning
Mumbly” “What .say, Mumbly”, and so on.
Her class mates were greeting her. ‘Oh, golly,
they know what my name is and they’re smil
ing at me!’ Little Mumbly was delirious with
joy.
Then she saw the registrar. Miss Students-
blight. The day became dark, and she turned
away, crestfallen. Miss Studentsblight stop
ped.
“I’ve good news for you, Mumbly,” she
said. “I’ve been checking your record and
found that you have 32 hours of Bible instead
of 2. You are going to graduate! Congratula
tions.” And with a sweet smile she walked
away.
Her heart bursting with gratitude. Little
Mumbly ran after her and kissed her hand.
Then, overcome, she turned and fled.
Blindly she ran against someone and back
ed away, mumbling with confusion. It was Dr.
Gentilhomme, the French professor.
“Quite all right,” said he, dusting himself
off. “A nice day! And by the way, mam’selle,
I enjoy your work in the newspaper.”
In a daze Little Mumbly whispered, “I
never thought anyone even read it!” She look
ed at him with utter adoration and began’to
sink to her knees at his feet. Alarmed, he hur
ried off.
She had started toward the square when
she was stopped again.
“Good morning, and a mild west wind,
with temperature of 68!”, said Bishop Unitas-
fratrum. He smiled at her, quoted a bit of
Horace, pointed to the weathervane, and moved
on.
“How good he is,” thought Mumbly, “and
how wise and kind.” Her heart was filled
with love and gratitude, and she began to think.
“It is a good life after all,” she said to her
self, “and people really are wonderful. I real
ly do love it here, and I love the people. These
beautiful old buildings*—the quiet and peace
and tradition of it; the girls; the faculty; they
all are so wonderful, and I have been stupid
not to realize it. How could I have been so
discouraged and so bitter? How could I have
thought it didn’t matter? And they even care
about me ! It’s wonderful!” And with that she
smiled with such warmth and such sweetness
as if to encompass the ,whole earth. This was
her moment of supreme delight!
Suddenly a little boy on a triqycle hurtled
around the corner. Brakes screamed, glass
broke, things crashed together. Then there
was awful silence. "Shortly thereafter many
girls ran about, an ambulance came, and a
broken little boy was carried away.
There were no classes the next day. The
girls sat in solemn groups in the smokehouses
and talked of their deceased classmate. They
recalled her many little trials and tribulations,
and they spoke of her with sadness. Even the
faculty was somewhat touched. Yes, great and
small paused in their duties and thought of
Little Mumbly. For, as her English professor
expressed it, “She was a sweet little thing, even
though she tended to be rather quiet.”